


Making Legends Out of Men

by junko



Series: Written in the Scars (of Our Hearts) [26]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the encounter with his aunt, Byakuya wants to ask Rukia about her experiences with the purification rite, but is... baffled by Orihime.  Meanwhile, in the Human World, Renji returns to his crazy life at the shoten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Legends Out of Men

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to Josey (cestus) and her help remembering not only Gotei canon, but also my previous storyline. You are awesome, Josey. Thanks for putting up with my constant bugging.
> 
> WARNING: I made stuff up again. You may not agree.

Thanks to the encounter with his aunt, Byakuya was already tired by the time he, Rukia and Orihime sat down around the irori, the sunken hearth, for tea. Rain continued to lash against the windows and thunder rolled distantly.

The under-butler had set out a tray of treats: senbai, a grilled rice cracker. A rather rustic choice, plus, unexpectedly, these seemed to be flavored with chocolate--a bit of a shock when anticipating something salty and savory. “I’m sorry,” Byakuya said. After taking a bite, he set his back on his plate. “I’ll speak to the cook about her untraditional choices and have something diff—“

But Rukia put a hand on Byakuya’s knee and gestured discretely at the way Orihime was devouring the crackers. 

“--or these will be fine,” Byakuya finished. He cautiously sipped his tea, but was happy to note that it was his usual favorite green gyrokuro. To Rukia, Byakuya asked, “Are you all settled back in?”

“It’s always nice to be home.” Rukia smiled softly, so heartbreakingly like Hisana that Byakuya found he had to look away. It still deeply bothered Byakuya to think that the purification rite might have added to Hisana’s illness in any way.

He was about to ask Rukia about her experience with the ritual, when Orihime suddenly chirped happily: “I can’t believe you live in this awesome place! It’s like a palace. I feel like a real princess.”

Tentatively trying the cracker again, Byakuya found it was better when he knew what to expect. However, he wasn’t sure what to say to Orihime’s bright smile. “Thank you,” he said at last. “The estate has been in my family for many generations. This is actually one of our more modest holdings, as it built with the intention of serving the simple needs of the first captain of the Sixth Division and his family.”

Orihime clapped her hands. “Oh, sounds like a story! What was he like?”

Rukia settled more comfortably, as though she, too, was hoping to be regaled with a tale. Byakuya looked between them both, feeling very trapped by their curious and bright eyes. 

He let out a little breath of surrender. Taking the tea pot, he refilled everyone’s bowls as he spoke. “A lot of stories were told about him, since he established the clan, the division, and the archives. He was also the first Kuchiki to wear the kenseikan. Stories say he was a ruthless and cunning warlord. He was handsome, brave, and all the things that make legends out of men. The way the story was told to me was that the when Soul King established the proto-Gotei, we were known as the King’s Guard. The Sixth Division was its outer defense. Some of the walls that surround this estate today were part of the original barrier. In those days, we were the sixth, because the entirety of the Guard was the five true first families and the king himself.”

Orihime’s eyes were wide and rapt.

Rukia sipped her tea, and asked, “But I thought Captains Ukitake and Kyōraku were among the first.”

“First of the Academy-trained captains, yes,” Byakuya explained. “The Gotei, as an idea, is far older than even the Captain Commander, but Yamamoto can and should be credited with focusing our mission and for being the true founder of the Thirteen as we are today. Back in the days of the King’s Guard, we were more a series of loose alliances based on blood and nobility. Eventually, most of the family holdings were broken up into the divisions as they are now. Until recently, the Kuchiki and Shihōin were the final remaining vestiges of that old system. Now, it’s only our family that holds the exact same place as it had at the very beginning.”

The last to join; the last left standing.

Which was why the Kuchiki held on to every tradition so tightly, Byakuya thought. No one else was left who remembered and respected the old ways.

Rukia was thinking very hard about this, it seemed. “So, is that why there are secret tunnels? As escape routes should the battlements fall?”

Byakuya was about to say ‘exactly’ when Orihime nearly spilled her tea in excitement, “Are you kidding? There are secret tunnels! Please, please tell me there’s a bookcase where you turn the candlestick and a wall rotates and you get to the Bat Cave!”

What was a ‘bat cave’ in this context? Byakuya wondered. There were connections that might lead to caverns, but most of them were pest free.

Rukia seemed to understand, however, “Not quite,” she said, grasping Orihime’s hand in shared enthusiasm. “But close! I’ll have to show you my favorite secret passage tomorrow! It goes behind the library!”

“Oh my god, I would love you forever!”

The stars in Orihime’s eyes gave Byakuya a shuddering flash of Yachiru all grown-up and still scooting through his house on that horrible contraption that left scuff marks everywhere. He let out his breath with a sigh. 

“Just be careful,” was all Byakuya said by way of an admonishment. He could no more hold these two women back than he could that pink-haired menace. But, he explained, “The tunnels are still meant to be secret. The first Kuchiki and the First Kenpachi were allies. There is a direct underground route from the territory that became the Eleventh’s barracks to here. The original plan being that the First Kenpachi would come in and hold the line should all else fail. But, I would prefer that most of those ruffians not know they had access to the estate, and particularly to our sake stores. It’s bad enough that their lieutenant has discovered it.”

Rukia giggled a little, “We’ll be careful, nii-sama. I promise.”

Byakuya nodded. He should probably collapse that particular tunnel, but, when his father first told him the story of why that tunnel existed, his mind had filled with heroic and romantic images of the Kuchiki and The Kenpachi holding off a horde of invaders single-handedly.

Secretly, the idea still appealed to him.

And, having no child of his own to pass the story to, Byakuya had told Yachiru it. So, should the day come, perhaps it would be himself and Zaraki against them all.

Ah, such foolish dreams filling his head! Clearly, he was overdue for sleep. “Ladies, please excuse me,” he said standing up. Rukia jumped to her feet and Orihime followed a second later, when she realized she was supposed to. “I have a full day ahead and the weekend was…” wonderful? Exhausting? “…full.”

“Good night, nii-sama,” Rukia said.

“Good night, Captain Kuchiki,” Orihime said with a little curtsy.

“Good night.”

#

The under-butler had stacked all the yaoi on the bedside table. If it was possible to do so disapprovingly, the under-butler had managed it. All the books were face-down with their spines to the wall.

Likewise, the most conservative sleeping kimono was left out for Byakuya. It was one of his grandfather’s. The fabric was an indigo so deep it was almost black, and the only pattern in the fabric were tiny diamond shapes of a slightly lighter blue hue. 

Byakuya wondered how the under-butler had coped with the sex toys.

Perhaps Eishirō would handle such things himself at some later time. They could be discretely returned to their places when no one else was around. After all, there was no hurry now that Byakuya and Renji were separated again. 

Byakuya let out a small sigh at that thought.

As he dressed for bed, he wondered what they should do about the purification rite. Aunt Masama had made an infuriatingly frightening case that it was a good idea. However, it still felt selfish. Renji and Zabimaru were far closer that Rukia and Sode no Shirayuki. More to the point, when Rukia had gone through the rite, Sode no Shirayuki hadn’t even revealed her name to Rukia. Rukia was fresh out of Academy. The rite had probably slowed her advancement, but… truthfully, even had he known the full consequences, Byakuya would probably still have agreed to it, because he was very intent on keeping her safe, away from the action. 

Fortunately, Rukia seemed to feel now that it had given her time to perfect many techniques, too. 

All had been alright in the end.

But, Renji had bankai.

Could they even disrupt such a bond and expect a shinigami to live?

Byakuya wasn’t sure. He would have to ask an expert, which, unfortunately was either Kurotsuchi or Urahara. Neither of which was a pleasant prospect. However, it made sense for Byakuya to approach Kurotsuchi and Renji, Urahara. 

Pulling back the covers, Byakuya turned his stack of manga so he could better see their titles. Choosing the one he’d been in the middle of, he settled in to read. Something light and pleasant to distract him from all that he had to do tomorrow would be just the thing. With any luck, the sexy parts of the story wouldn’t be too reminiscent of the weekend…

Otherwise it could be a long night.

#

Renji had no intention of going to high school when he woke up, but he dressed in the uniform anyway. After waiting half an hour for the bathroom to empty, he unbraided his hair and dragged a comb through it. Not feeling very inspired, he let it hang in front of his face as he did the rest of his toiletries to the chorus of loud raps and “What’s taking so long!?” from Jinta.

When he was finished, Renji slid the door open and glared down at the little red-haired punk. Jinta actually did a double-take and said, “Whoa, that’s a scary look! Someone’s grouchy this morning!” as he shoved past Renji to the bathroom, already starting to unzip his pants, completely unconcerned that the door was still wide open.

With a frustrated grunt, Renji pushed the door closed and stomped down the hall in search of breakfast.

Truth was he hadn’t slept well. The tiger had been some comfort, smelling, as it did, of the hotel. But, Renji had missed the sound of flipping pages and the soft, quiet huffs of Byakuya’s breathing and the steady sensation of his reiatsu nearby. Renji’d tossed and turned all night—especially after his brain started to play out a really twisted scenario involving Byakuya’s gigai.

The kitchen at the shōten was bustling as usual. Urahara sat cross-legged on the floor in nothing but green-and-white striped pajama pants. Urahara sipped his morning coffee from a mug that said ‘I see the assassins have failed’ onto which someone had drawn a bumblebee with a Sharpie. The morning paper was spread out on his lap.

The sight of so much well-toned, pale skin had Renji pausing in the doorway a little longer than he’d intended, trying desperately not to stare at the surprising array of scars on Urahara’s body. Urahara usually obscured his strength, so Renji was always struck by how lean and tough the shopkeeper was… looking at him now, it was far easier to see a Gotei captain and former head of the Punishment Squad. So, Renji found himself giving a little bow as he entered.

Tessai was cooking, of course. Today he was wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe while flipping pancakes.

Ururu stood next to him washing last night’s dishes in the sink and, noticing his movement, she turned and blinked at Renji with her usual morose expression before saying, “Good morning, Abarai-kun.”

Tessai turned and gave Renji a very obvious measuring glance before wagging his thick eyebrows out from under his square glasses. “My,” was all he said.

Urahara glanced up from his paper then and snorted a mouthful of coffee. His eyes were wide under his tuft of blond hair. “You… forgot your pineapple this morning, Lieutenant.”

Renji was getting all this reaction because of his hair? He shrugged, pulling a strand from his face, “I didn’t know what to do with it…” He rubbed his face with his hand. “It was too hard.” Plunking himself down opposite Urahara, he added, “This whole morning is too hard.”

“Poor lamb,” Urahara smirked behind his coffee mug. “Pancakes will help. Tessai’s pancakes make everything better.”

Renji nodded, but he crossed his arms on the table top and slumped his face into them with a groan. He closed his eyes and listened to the noises of dishes clinking, coffee percolating, bacon frying, and paper rustling. It was a very homey sound and it was slowly lulling him back to sleep. 

“Apparently,” Urahara said conversationally, “There’s a sentō not far from here that’s had some kind of haunting in the men’s changing room.” 

Renji’s head popped up.

Urahara was still reading, his face hidden behind the paper. “It says here that Don Kanonji is going to film a show there. I guess they’re going to call it ‘Perverted Poltergeists.’”

“Oh. My. God,” was Renji’s only coherent response.

The eye peered at Renji over the top of the paper sparkled with mirth, as Urahara asked, “Oh? You know something about that? Because the paper reports some people heard moans and other very interesting sounds…. One older gentleman claims to have seen the whole affair--and it sounds very sordid indeed.”

Renji slammed his head back into the table. Could he just die now? Ah, crap, he was already dead.

Tessai set a plate down at Renji’s elbow. “Young men should always remember there’s a lot more sensitive humans around than a person might think.”

“Especially around here,” Urahara noted, pleasantly, as if they were discussing the weather and not Renji’s exposed sex life. “There’s a bit of a… vortex around Kurosaki. It’s actually kind of problematic, but, well, the upshot is that a surprising number of people can see shinigami.”

“Yeah, I got that. Thanks.” Renji grumbled into his elbow. His face was hot with a deep blush, so he kept it hidden despite the tempting smells coming from the cooling breakfast plate. So much for Renji’s plan to slyly ask Urahara whether or not it was possible for Renji to wear Byakuya’s gigai; he’d be lucky to ever be able to look these two guys in the eye again.

“Well, it should be an interesting show,” Urahara said. Folding the paper up, he said a quick grace over the food and tucked in. “Kanonji is nothing if not exploitative.”

“Great,” Renji said, pulling his face up finally. “Well, I guess this is one time I can be grateful that no one in the Soul Society has a TV.”

“Oh, but the Twelfth Division does,” Urahara said cheerfully. 

“You’re not helping,” Renji said. “I really don’t need to know that those creeps could be finding about…” he glanced at Ururu’s big eyes, and finished with, “…stuff.”

Urahara gave another knowing, smirk. “They’re scientists, Lieutenant. I’m sure they know all about _stuff_.”

“Yeah, true,” Renji said, relaxing a little. And, Urahara was right, the pancakes were sweet and fluffy, making him feel better. “And it’s not like people will know it’s me.”

Urahara coughed.

Renji swallowed hard. "Right?"

“Well….” He said turning the paper around and sliding it across the table so Renji could read the article, “There is _this_.”

A long boned finger tapped a line in the text.

Renji read the quote from the ‘eye witness’ who claimed that he saw something ‘ monstrous--well-endowed, striped with tiger tattoos, a bush of red hair, and sharp teeth.’ Weirdly flattering, but, yeah, totally recognizable…. Renji flopped backward on to the tatami. “I’m doomed.”

“Eat your pancakes, dear,” Urahara said in his breezy way, “There’s always hope you’ll die fighting Aizen. Then no one will care about your naked escapades!”

Renji raised a hand and made a gesture for good luck. 

But, he would never be that fortunate. His luck? More like Akon was already passing the news article to Hisagi for inclusion in the Seireitei Communiqué. He'd return an infamous legend... the sort of story people told as a warning.

Throwing an arm over his face, Renji sighed. “Doomed.”


End file.
